bossa.
my new fetish.


a forest of tall willows, lush green.
soft Rapunzel strands ease away with a single stroke, brushing against the heels of my feet as i go.
sunlight is sparse.
and the occasional beams cause an unadjusted squint.
it is a calming density, even without the knowledge of lions that lay in wait.
no, i refuse a compass and i take no heed.
just undulating tracks that eventually lead me to the place where i'm supposed to be.


what can i say.
tuesday's just two days away.


i disclose.
it was active inhibition on my part.
the thoughts and dynamics fell into the wrong slots.


now the curtain opens on a portrait of today
and the streets are paved with passers-by
and pigeons fly, and papers lie
waiting to blow away.

perfection at 1:29 AM